


The Great Shire Conspiracy

by Avelera



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Shire, Fluff, Humor, In which all the dwarves ship Bagginshield, M/M, Or Is It?, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 21:11:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4195059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avelera/pseuds/Avelera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years later, Bilbo can't even go to the Green Dragon without a dwarven tourist buying him a beer and sobbing over Bilbo's great tragic love affair with Thorin Oakenshield. Which would all be quite touching and heartbreaking, if not for one little thing...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Great Shire Conspiracy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emsiecat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emsiecat/gifts).
  * Translation into Polski available: [The Great Shire Conspiracy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13509102) by [GodOfWar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodOfWar/pseuds/GodOfWar)



> Based on a Tumblr prompt by for emsiecat, where I was challenged to make this prompt into a happy one: "Thorin is dead and everyone knows Hobbits aren’t likely to be able to see dwarves in the afterlife. So Bilbo will never get to properly confess his love for Thorin and vice versa."
> 
> Normally I would post this in "Acorns and Oakenshields", but it was over 1,500 words and I figured just long enough to warrant its own story. Please enjoy!

In truth, Bilbo had only intended to stop inside the Green Dragon briefly, fetch the cask of beer he had ordered for the party, and be on his way. Certainly his companion had expected the same, arriving with him to help carry it back to Bag End.

But no sooner had they arrived when they were greeted by a sight that was by now all too familiar: a single dwarf sobbing into his cups, surrounded by puzzled hobbits. The bartender must have given him Bilbo’s description, if for no other reason than to get this dwarven tourist (for there was no doubt that’s what he was) out of his curly hair. Bilbo knew this because the bartender had a grudge, and because as soon as the hobbit entered, this lone dwarf caught sight of him and leapt to his feet. 

The dwarf in question had blue hair, a green hood and a long beard tucked into his belt, and at present that beard was streaked with tears. He seized Bilbo by the hand, and began to vigorously shake it. “You, you are Bilbo Baggins? Ach, lad, I’ve heard such tales, such tales that would crack stone for the tears.”

“Indeed, I am,” Bilbo said cautiously, for there was no denying it. No sooner had he said this than the dwarf burst into renewed sobs.

Without so much as a pause, the dwarf seized him by the arm and dragged him to the bar. He sat Bilbo down beside him, and ordered a second beer, all the while ignoring Bilbo’s companion utterly. From that point it would have been quite rude to refuse, free beer was free beer, after all, and this was hardly the first time. Not since his book had found wide circulation in Ered Luin and distant Erebor, making the Shire renowned as the starting point of the famous quest that had reclaimed the mountain all those years before. Bilbo had found the best tactic was simply to indulge these tourists until there was a chance for a hasty retreat. 

Even so, Bilbo cast a helpless glance back at his companion, who only gave him a look in return that urged him to be sensitive to the poor dwarf’s plight. “There, there, my friend,” Bilbo soothed the sniffling dwarf, all while rolling his eyes. “It was a long time ago.”

“Too long, Master Hobbit, too long,” sobbed the dwarf. “Aye, Dáin is a good enough king, may his beard grow ever longer, but the two of ye deserved a life together. It’s just not right, it’s not.”

“I know, I know, Master…?” Bilbo said.

“Nali,” the dwarf supplied, taking out a handkerchief from inside his coat and blowing into it. Bilbo made a surreptitious face as the dwarf folded the hankie back up and stuffed it inside the coat again. “I read your book, aye I must have read it a dozen times. Such a tribute to our lost king, he would have been proud.”

“The troll incident really wasn’t as bad as he wrote it,” Bilbo’s companion grumbled. “There was at least a fight first.”

“Even so,” Nali sniffled. “His final words to you? The glorious death of his nephews, defending him with sword and body? I thought my heart would shatter in my breast. You’re a noble soul, Master Baggins, a noble soul. It’s no wonder he gave you such a kingly gift.”

Bilbo blinked at this new information. “I beg your pardon?”

“The mithril shirt! Such a grand courting gift, I have never heard of its like. Truly you must have been first in his heart,” Nali said. Bilbo’s companion shifted next to him, casting his gaze back to the door of the Green Dragon and thus avoiding Bilbo’s glare. “It’s worth more than twice the Shire, if it’s worth a penny. He loved you very much, Master Baggins, and with him now gone to the Halls of his Fathers, he’ll never have the chance to tell you properly. But know it was true, Master Baggins, any dwarf could tell you the love he had for you was true!”

At this, Bilbo’s companion coughed into his hand, nodding towards the bar where their cask of ale was waiting. His cheeks had gone distinctly red.

“Well, that is indeed a lovely sentiment, though I’m afraid the Shire is not for sale,” Bilbo said primly, arching an eyebrow at his companion that promised words later, before he turned back to Nali. “And I’m afraid we must go. A pleasure meeting you, Master Nali. You’re right, it is truly a shame about dear Thorin.”

“And Fíli, and Kíli too,” Nali said. Tears stood out in his eyes, and his nose dribbled slightly. Bilbo very delicately took the dwarf’s hand from his shoulder, and deposited it back on the table.

“Yes, and Fíli and Kíli too. I’m afraid even mentioning the grief is too much for me, I must retire, for the memory alone saps all my strength. I bid you good evening,” Bilbo said as he struggled to escape.

Yet Nali insisted on a long, tearful hug before he returned to his cups, and then turned to another hobbit beside him, beginning to regale the poor trapped soul with the entire story of the tragic love between Bilbo Baggins and Thorin Oakenshield, late king of the Longbeards, assuring the hobbit that it was an affair that would live in dwarven poetry for generations, doomed and glorious as it had been.

It wasn’t until they’d burst back into the comfortable breeze of the spring evening that Bilbo turned to his companion. “More than the worth of the Shire?” he said archly. His companion looked studiously innocent, hefting the small keg of ale as if it weighed nothing.

“That would depend on the present market for mithril, and for the Shire,” his companion answered. “It could also be many times that.”

Bilbo stared, then rolled his eyes, gesturing for his companion to follow him back up the hill. After they had wandered a little further in silence, he added, “You know, for someone so invested in the line of Durin, you’d think Master Nali would recognize one of their members when he saw him.”

“It’s not as if our portraits are widely circulated,” Thorin replied. “I told you when we left for the Shire that Bilbo Baggins, Master Burglar, would be far more widely recognized than a mere village blacksmith.”

“I imagine that putting your description down as having a beard that goes to your belt didn’t hurt,” Bilbo said, giving a light tug to Thorin’s closely-shorn beard. “Or describing both Fíli and Kíli as blond.”

“Indeed, whatever would we have done without you?” Thorin said dryly as they arrived at the front stoop of Bag End.

Kíli opened the door, exclaiming as he did so, “About time! I was ready to send search parties.”

“We were held up,” Bilbo sighed. “It seems some dwarves are taking your ‘deaths’ harder than others.”

“Oh, did we die again?” Fíli said, striding to the entrance hall. “More importantly, is that the ale? Finally, the others have been waiting.” Fíli accepted the keg from Thorin and disappeared with it back down the hallway, towards a raucous noise coming from the dining room. Kíli joined him, leaving Bilbo and Thorin alone in the doorway.

“A terrible shame, that you never got to say how much you loved me,” Bilbo said, looking wryly over at Thorin.

“Indeed? I shall endeavor to do so more often,” Thorin said, raising a lopsided eyebrow in return. The scar down his forehead from Azog’s blade was only a thin line these days, and his limp was quite nearly gone. Shire living had done Thorin a world of good in the years since both of them had decided Erebor held too many ghosts to offer any comfort to the line of Durin. Fíli and Kíli had heartily agreed, and they all slipped away before word could spread too far of their recovery after the battle. Dáin had stepped up to the responsibility of ruling readily enough, and in the end, it only meant a small addition to Bilbo’s book to include Thorin’s nephews in the scheme as well. A single sentence shoved into the middle of a paragraph describing how the two lads fell defending Thorin with sword and body. More of an afterthought, but the boys had given him very little notice after all, and so forfeited their rights to so dramatic a death scene as Thorin’s. 

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the mithril shirt. I expect a full explanation on how you failed to mention that there’s an item in our house worth more than my fourteenth share,” Bilbo warned.

“I thought that item was supposed to be me?” Thorin said as he closed the round door of their home behind him.

“Cheeky,” Bilbo said in fond exasperation. “Come now, Fíli’s right, the others will be wondering where we’ve gone.” 

It was, after all, the tenth anniversary of the Quest for Erebor, and it would not do to keep the rest of the Company waiting on so auspicious a day.

 

**Author's Note:**

> “Well, that’s that,” [Bilbo] said. “Now I’m off!”  
> They went out into the hall. Bilbo chose his favourite walking stick from the stand; then he whistled. Three dwarves came out of different rooms where they had been busy.  
> “Is everything ready?” asked Bilbo. “Everything packed and labelled?”  
> “Everything,” they answered.  
> “Well, let’s start then!”  
> The Fellowship of the Ring by JRR Tolkien
> 
> The Great Shire Conspiracy postulates that none of the Durin heirs died, but are in fact living in hiding with Bilbo in the Shire and that Bilbo's book was part of an elaborate cover-up. One of my favorite fan theories, and while I don't really have the time to devote to a long AU around this premise, I thought you might all enjoy this prompt ficlet.
> 
> Thank you for reading, if you enjoyed please consider repaying that with a comment! They do so make my day!
> 
> If you would like an alert for when I publish original novels and short stories, you can sign up [here](http://eepurl.com/dnzuV1).


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